The Martial Craftsman—An Introduction

By George Donahue

With this introduction, I’m happy to introduce a new series on
FightingArts.com, a series that will focus on the craft and craftsmanship
of the fighting arts. Although I’ve been associated with FightingArts.com
for a while, my involvement has always been peripheral; as much as I
wished otherwise, I never had the time to focus here. Now I do, and I
hope to use this opportunity to help the reader—to the best of
my ability—more fully enjoy and understand the practice of the
fighting arts. (1)

I’ve chosen “The Martial Craftsman” as a series title
because it reflects my own chosen path and my profound ambivalence toward
the general use of the euphemism “martial artist.” I’ve
never been comfortable thinking of myself as a martial artist, even though
I’ve been practicing what is generally called martial arts since
I was a young kid. It doesn’t bother me that others don’t
feel the same way, and my reluctance to identify myself as a martial
artist has presented no problem for me in acquiring, commissioning, editing,
and even ghost writing martial arts books for several publishers. Or
from teaching martial arts most of my adult life.

But I’m not really a martial artist. Like many people dedicated
to the practice of the fighting arts, I don’t have the talent,
imagination, or unique experience necessary to be a true artist of any
sort. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have reasonably good
technique, or that I can’t teach others how to improve their technique,
or that I haven’t a time or two actually used my training to save
my bones, but it does mean that I don’t transcend the practice
in the manner of those few who do.

I’ve been very fortunate that some of my teachers have been true
artists. For example, the three Okinawans (Seigi Nakamura, Chokei Kishaba,
and Katsuhiko Shinzato). (2) who have taught me the bulk of what I know
about karate and traditional weapons have been exquisite artists. I’m
sure that not one of them considered himself to be teaching me techniques
of martial art, however. What they taught and continue to teach me, on
the surface at least, is “karate jutsu,” the principles and
technical applications of the craft of karate. Although they were all
three teaching and practicing the same thing (sometimes all three at
once in the same room) they each looked very different from the others,
and all others, in their performance of the identical techniques. The
difference was in their personal artistic interpretation and understanding
of the craft. They were and are, indeed, martial artists, even though
they would not ordinarily call themselves so. Their karate could be expressed
as true art because, while they did not consciously think of themselves
as artists, they, at the same time, in the manner of true artists, no
longer had to think about the craft—unless they chose to for the
benefit of their students. By demonstrating their artistry for their
lucky student, they have encouraged their student to seek the potential
artistry within.

At my best, I understand this and maybe even get close now and then,
but I still have to think about the craft every second, or I stray into
bad technique. Maybe someday that will change. I might someday pass through
the barrier that separates me from martial artistry; I might not. In
the meantime, I’ll work at my craft.

So, philosophically and realistically, I’m a martial craftsman.
But I’m a martial craftsman in a more mundane way, too. I like
to build my own equipment to fill needs in my training. I like to devise
methods to improve my own training, and I like to help my students devise
ways to improve their training. When I or one of my students has a problem
with a technique, I like to devise ways to overcome that problem. Together,
the student and I attack the problem like scientists, observing closely,
testing this and testing that, trying this and that, and ultimately finding
a better way to get something done. We are craftsmen plugging away at
a challenging piece of work and enjoying every minute of it. In this,
we are living the traditional craft from which we have sprung.

Likewise, in this series I’ll plug away at challenges as they
spring up. I’ll tell you what I’ve figured out and how you
might want to approach similar challenges. This series will cover everything
from how to make and properly use a makiwara to, eventually, how to “effortlessly” double
your power and speed. It should be fun for me. I hope you find it enjoyable
and useful. If you don’t, let me know and I’ll work on making
it better.

Footnotes:

(1) I’ll concentrate most of my writing within
this series, but I’ll also from time to time address other topics
that don’t
fit independently as stand-alone articles.

(2) Nakamura-sensei and Kishaba-sensei are no longer
with us, but Shinzato-sensei will be going strong for at least another
twenty or thirty years.

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About The Author:

George Donahue, editor-at-large for FightingArts.com, is a writer, editor,
and literary agent who teaches traditional weapons, karate, and self-defense
on the side. He has worked in book publishing for more than twenty-five
years. Honing his skills at Random House and with a long stint at Knopf/Vintage
Books in New York City, where he worked on David Guterson’s “Snow
Falling on Cedars” and Arthur Golden’s “Memoirs of
a Geisha,” he went on to serve as executive editor of Tuttle Publishing,
directing the martial arts and Asian language, history, current affairs,
and religion publishing programs. After leaving Tuttle, he established
a new martial arts publishing program at Lyons Press, where he also edited
fiction, sports, current affairs, and health titles. Among those he has
edited are: Mark Bishop, Paul Budden, Rick Clark, Thomas Cleary, Don
Cunningham, John Donahue, Reynaldo Galang, Mitsuo Kure, Bruce Lee, Dave
Lowry, Patrick McCarthy, Marc MacYoung, Shoshin Nagamine, Susan Lynn
Peterson, George Plimpton, Donald Richie, Rob Reilly, Leung Shum, Mark
Wiley, and Mike Young. He is currently writing a martial arts dictionary
and a training manual.

Donahue has been training in martial arts his entire life. After spending
his early childhood training in self-defense at home under the direction
of his parents, he began formal dojo training in judo and jujutsu in
his native Tokyo at the age of seven, with the study of Japanese traditional
weapons beginning soon after. He has studied widely in other traditions,
particularly in aikido and taiji. As a teenager, he took up the study
of Matsubayashi Ryu karate and Okinawan traditional weapons and went
on to study with Shoshin and Takayoshi Nagamine, to whom he remains deeply
indebted; he is an honorary life member of the World Matsubayashi Ryu
Karate Association. In the early 1980s, he and his sister Nancy and her
husband, Paris Janos, became the first American students of the Okinawan
teaching trio of Seigi Nakamura, Chokei Kishaba, and Katsuhiko Shinzato
(with whom he also studies Yamane Ryu bojutsu) as they refined the karate
and weapons training system now known as Shorin Ryu Kishaba Juku. He
is a 6th dan in this style. Following the deaths of Nakamura and Kishaba
senseis, he has been a student exclusively of Shinzato-sensei.

Donahue has been teaching for over thirty-five years. After teaching
in Florida and Brooklyn for several years, in 1985 he founded, with Arthur
Ng, the Shorin Ryu karate dojo at the Ken Zen Institute of Japanese Art
and Culture in New York City. He conducts karate and weapons seminars
throughout the U.S., as well as a monthly open training session at the
John Jay College of Criminal Justice of the City University of New York.